Deadly Politics (12 page)

“Long enough. Two tours.” The light in his eyes changed.

“Thank God you made it out alive.”

“More or less.”

Somehow I couldn't break eye contact. “I worried about you,” I said without thinking.
Where had that come from?

The warm smile returned. “Maybe that helped.”

I could feel his smile reach inside, and it felt good. Way too good. I needed to back off. Things were stirring inside me that I hadn't felt for a long time. I glanced away for a second. “Do you live in Washington now?”

He nodded. “Ever since I retired from the Corps five years ago.”

I stared at Danny again. Couldn't help it. “You were a career Marine? My God, Danny, the world's blown up since high school, and you've probably been right in the middle of it.”

“Pretty much. Special Forces.”

I closed my eyes and grimaced on purpose while he laughed. “Why am I not surprised? You probably went from Vietnam right into a nest of guerrillas in some jungle.”

“Actually, they sent me to college after those two Nam tours. By the time I got my degree, the Middle East was on fire. The jungle came later.”

I let admiration color my voice. “An officer and a gentleman. That doesn't surprise me, either. You did good, Danny.”

“Thanks. So did you, Molly. That's why I'm not surprised to see you working for Senator Russell. I've kept track of your career over the years. I had a feeling you'd be back in Washington one of these days.”

My mouth dropped open again.
Damn
. I had to stop doing that. “You kept track of
me?
My God, Danny, my life is pretty boring. You need a retirement hobby. Why don't you take your wife traveling?”
Now, why in the world did I say that?

“Divorced.”

That was why. Well, no points for subtlety. If Crazy Ass didn't stop messing with me,
I
was going to slap her.

“Ah, yes, happens to a lot of us. But, if you've been keeping track, you already knew that.”

“You're right. So I figured you might like a reliable escort to help you reacquaint yourself with your old hometown,” he said with entirely too engaging a grin. “Since you've moved back, that is. Are you living in D.C. or Virginia?”

“Actually, I live just a few blocks away on P Street. The senator's chief of staff is letting me stay in one of his vacant townhouses. For free, believe it or not. It's a long story.”

“Well, I've got the time. Why don't you let me introduce you to some of my favorite coffee shops around here. Or maybe lunch.”

Just then, Luisa's voice called from the front step. “Molly, I'm back. Did you learn who sent the flowers?”

I gestured to Danny. “Turns out ‘DD' is an old friend from high school.”

“Well, isn't that nice. Why don't you two catch up over lunch,” she said as she hastened down the steps. I noticed she was carrying my purse.

The images of accounts and spreadsheets danced in front of my eyes for a minute. “I really should get back to work.”

“Nonsense, Molly. You've worked enough for your first day. You should take it slowly,” Luisa said, handing me the purse. “Now, run along and enjoy this beautiful afternoon with your friend. Everything's under control here.” She gave a little wave and smiled before hurrying back to the house.

“Sounds like good advice,” Danny said, gesturing toward the gate. “I have a café in mind I think you'll like. It's only a few blocks away.”

I fell into step with him as we headed out to the sidewalk. “I've wanted to wander down Wisconsin Avenue and explore but hadn't found the time yet. There's so much to do, moving in.” I glanced down the quiet residential street and the overarching trees that had leafed out in lime spring green. Old memories poked through. “Some things look exactly the same as when I … when we lived here. And some things are totally changed.”

After several seconds of silent walking, Danny's voice came quietly. “Molly, let me say right now how very sorry I am about your husband's death years ago. That was tragic. I know you were devastated. I could tell. That picture in the paper of you and your little girls nearly broke my heart. I won't mention it again, I promise.”

Wow
. This conversation was going where no man had gone before. And … it was okay. I was okay. I turned and studied Danny for a long moment, while he stood unperturbed by my scrutiny.

“It's okay, Danny. Time has passed.” I shrugged. “We heal, if we're lucky.”

Danny glanced down. “Yeah, we do. We heal or die.”

I'd glimpsed empathy in the depths of those dark brown eyes. Even so, I deliberately chose a lighter tone. “Scars on the inside, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” He started walking again. “C'mon, let's have lunch. You can fill me in on this new job with Senator Russell on the way.”

“Well, I guess I can't beat a badass ex-Marine escort, can I? I ought to be safe from stalkers for sure,” I said, joining him as we headed down the sidewalk. “Marines probably eat stalkers for breakfast.”

“Marines eat sand.”

It felt good to laugh. A stray thought wiggled from the back of my brain. Something Danny had said. “How did you see my photo in the paper all those years ago? Weren't you on duty somewhere?”

“Yeah, but I always had the
Post
mailed to me.”

I spotted the increased traffic as we neared Wisconsin Avenue. “Dave died in 1983. Where were you then?”

“Beirut.”

I changed the subject as we turned the corner.

_____

Swirling the Vouvray in my wineglass, I savored the delicate aroma while I gazed out at the tulip-filled flower boxes that lined the café's patio overlooking the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. Tourists in souvenir tee-shirts strolled along the towpath below, their voices muffled by the overhanging trees and surrounding bushes.

We'd chosen to walk to the café, which took us along treelined Georgetown streets, across the crowded main thoroughfare of M Street, then down to the towpath that bordered the canal. I saw restaurants paralleling the canal that weren't there years ago. Clearly, I needed to rediscover my hometown.

Strolling along the towpath that barge-pulling mules once trod, I confessed my anger and frustration over the investigation into my niece's death. Police had nothing substantial to go on, so the mugger-killer would get away with murder. Danny expressed his sorrow again over Karen's death—in words this time, rather than flowers. As we joined the tourists enjoying the early April sunshine, I explained my new position with Senator Russell as well as the triple whammy of events that had brought me back to Washington.

Conversation flowed as easily and as smoothly as the Potomac River, only a couple of blocks away. Talk turned personal at lunch. Danny admitted his reluctance to accept his last promotion, knowing that “bird colonels” were usually stuck behind a desk in D.C. He'd traded off one overseas assignment after another so he could keep the desk at bay for a while longer. Special Forces had spoiled him to the adrenaline rush of action. Washington was too slow for him, and Danny confessed he'd gotten married a second time out of boredom. Either that or the city had rotted his brain.

After I stopped laughing, I admitted my own poor track record at a second marriage. Maybe I hadn't remarried out of boredom, but loneliness was a poor excuse, too. I sensed that was closer to Danny's rationale as well. By the time we'd finished a delicate broiled salmon and the last glass of wine was poured, our conversation had settled into the comfortable, relaxed cadence of friends who'd been talking to each other for years instead of hours. Silence interspersed with sharing.

I glanced out at the canal flowing within its ordered locks, the towpath winding beneath the trees. Memories flitted through my mind again. I used to run along this towpath in the mornings when the kids were in preschool.

“Thanks for taking me here, Danny. This has always been one of my favorite places. Can people still run on the towpath? That would be a great way to start my day.”

Danny set his empty wineglass on the table. “Yeah, but there are some places that are safer than others. Why don't you go running with me first, and I can show you a safe route.”

“Go running with an ex-Marine? You'd leave me in your dust.” I drained the last delectable drop of Vouvray.

“I'll throttle back. Besides, we can finish up at another favorite outdoor cafe for breakfast. You know Washington. This gorgeous weather will be gone in a heartbeat.”

“True enough,” I said with a sigh, as I drank in the colors surrounding me much as I had the wine earlier. “Is that offer of tour guide still good? It looks like I need to relearn this city.”

“Absolutely. How's this weekend?”

“Saturday would work. Nan and Bill have already planned something for Sunday.”

He withdrew his data phone. “Okay. I'll give you a call this week. What's your number?”

I rattled off my cell number, realizing that in so doing I was agreeing to see this man again. This man from my past. That surprised me. Of course, it delighted the heck out of Crazy Ass and sent Sober into a scowling pout, muttering that only a week or so ago I had “sworn off men.”

I didn't care. I'd relaxed this afternoon, completely relaxed. And considering the traumatic events that had happened since I arrived in Washington nearly two weeks ago, relaxation was something I needed a lot more of.

“You've got my card. That has my cell. Call me anytime, Molly.”

“Your card says you're consulting. Not surprising. Like most retired brass. Who're you working for, or can you say?”

“Mostly I consult for private clients.”

I'd noticed he said ‘mostly.' Intrigued, I pressed for more. Couldn't help it. That was my nature. “What the heck is operational logistics?”

“You know the old saying, Molly. ‘If I told you, I'd have to kill you,'” he said with a smile.

“This is your idea of retirement? Sounds like you're still skating on the edge of that scary stuff.”

“I simply give advice and counsel.”

“Uh-huh.” I glanced at my watch and was shocked by the time. “Oh my gosh! It's after three o'clock! I should get back to the office.” Sober gave me a jab.

“But we haven't had coffee yet,” he said as he flagged down the waiter.

Watching the efficient waiter scurry off with our coffee orders, I remarked, “I'm amazed they've let us sit here so long.” I glanced around the empty café. “We're the only ones here.”

“I let them know that we'd be lingering over lunch and requested we be undisturbed. As I said, I'm a regular.”

I laughed softly as I leaned forward, resting my arms on the table. “That had to be some tip.”

“It was worth it.”

“That's flattering as hell, Danny.”

I could feel that bad-boy smile of his working the same magic inside that it had years ago.
Good Lord
. Was this a second childhood, or had I never left the first?
Beats me
.

“I'm glad you notice.”

“Notice? How could I not? You're like a laser beam. And I thought
I
was focused.”

“Can't help it, Molly. Old habits. Focus keeps you alive.”

“Yeah, but it's kind of intimidating. I feel like there's a red light dancing on my forehead. Am I the one who got away or something?”

Danny laughed as he leaned back into his chair, allowing the waiter to serve our coffees. “Sorry, Molly. Didn't mean to spook you. I'm simply glad to see you after all these years.”

I decided to see if I could throw him off balance, just for the hell of it. I settled back into my chair and sent him a wicked smile. “Danny, you live in Washington, D.C., where single women outnumber single men five to one or more. You can't tell me you've been lacking for female companionship.”

Danny met my gaze and held it, while he laughed. “That's true. But you're different. You always have been. That's why I've never been able to forget you, Molly”

That felt
way
too good. So good I had to break off eye contact. Okay, he won that point. “Well, thanks to the
D.C.
Dirt
, no one in Washington will be able to forget me.” I sipped my coffee. Strong and rich with a hint of chicory.

“This day is too pretty to waste. Let's take the housekeeper's advice. My car's parked right down the street. Why don't we take a quick drive past the Tidal Basin?” he tempted with that smile. “For old memories' sake.”

Despite Sober's admonitions, I let myself slip back in time to a late-March afternoon long ago.

Maybe it was the seductive spring weather that made me hand my books to Nan one day after school while I jumped on the back of Danny's cycle, leaving both Nan and Deb open-mouthed in astonishment. We roared away from Arlington and across Memorial Bridge toward the familiar monuments. Never before had I done something so out-of-bounds, so deliciously out of character. The wind blowing through my hair, the unbelievable sense of freedom, holding on to Danny for dear life while we flew through the streets winding beside the Potomac. We headed first to the Lincoln Memorial, then to the Tidal Basin and Jefferson's graceful dome. The scent of cherry blossoms, heady in the gathering dusk as we walked beneath them. The intimacy. And a kiss I still remembered.

Something of that memory must have shown on my face because Danny grinned at me. “The cherry blossoms are still in bloom.”

I just laughed while Danny signaled the waiter.

Eight

“Are you all moved
into the townhouse, Molly?” Albert asked as he poked his head into my office.

“Finally finished last night, Albert. I'm all set up,” I replied, sipping coffee while checking emails.

“Okay, then, I'll pick you up from the townhouse tonight before the reception. And don't bother making dinner. We've got the Southern congressional delegation coming. So the caterers have come up with some specialties.”

“Southern cooking, huh? That's always deadly. Thanks for the warning.”

I finally felt like I was settling in. This week there was only one evening reception, so I was able to ease back into the socializing demands. Next week would be business as usual—two or three receptions each week for the rest of April and May.

Taking another deep drink of Luisa's rich coffee, I skimmed through the last of the emails that had arrived since I'd logged off last night. Now that I was officially on the job, it was amazing the people who emailed me. I scrolled down, separating legit emails from spam. Not knowing a lot of these correspondents yet, sometimes it was hard to tell.

My BlackBerry beeped as it lay on the desk. Stopping the scroll, I checked my phone and found a voice mail. I swiveled my comfortable desk chair around and looked out into the senator's landscaped garden as I listened to the message.

“Ms. Malone, my name is Celeste Allard, and I worked with your niece Karen in Congressman Jackson's office. She was a good friend of mine. I wanted to have coffee with you, so I could tell you something. Something that's been bothering me ever since she died. Please call me back. I … I promise this isn't a prank call or anything like that. I really was Karen's friend. Thank you, Ms. Malone. I'll wait for your call.”

I listened to Celeste Allard rattle off her cell phone number, wondering what on earth had inspired one of Karen's co-workers to call me. I stared out the open window, a slight breeze lifted the lace curtains hanging inside the velvet drapes.

The woman's request made me slightly uneasy, despite her assurances that it was not a prank. Did she simply want to meet me to share maudlin reminiscences about my niece? She said something was bothering her ever since Karen's death. What could that be?

I debated erasing her message, then paused. There was something about her voice. An urgency to it that reached through. I punched in her number and listened to it ring.

“Celeste Allard,” a woman's crisp voice answered, not sounding unsure like the voice on the message.

“Ms. Allard? This is Molly Malone returning your call. You said you had something to tell me about my niece, Karen?”

“Oh, yes, can you hold on a minute, please?” Her voice dropped lower.

“Certainly,” I said, returning to my emails.

After a few moments, she returned to the line. “Ms. Malone, I'm sorry to make you wait,” she said. “I just didn't feel comfortable talking in my office. So many people around. You know how it is.”

“Yes, I do, Ms. Allard. Now what was it you wanted to tell me about Karen?”

“I was hoping you and I could meet for coffee. Would that be possible? It's … it's a lot of stuff.”

I wondered if I should have simply deleted her voice mail instead of returning it. Celeste was coming off a bit weird. I had enough random weirdness in my life. I didn't need any more.

“You know, Celeste, I'm really up to my ears trying to adjust to my new job here in Washington, and I simply don't have any spare evenings this week or next for that matter. Why don't you tell me on the phone, okay?”

“Well … it's a lot to tell, Ms. Malone …” her voice tentative now.

I decided to cut this off. “Celeste, I truly am not in the mood to listen to some office reminiscences about Karen. This has been a very difficult time for my family as you can—”

“It's not reminiscences, Ms. Malone. It's about Karen and Jed Molinoff.”

I paused. “What about them?” I allowed an edge into my voice.

“I … I knew about their relationship and was worried about Karen. Jed has a wife and kids back in Omaha. I didn't want her to get into trouble. Gossip on the Hill can kill careers. Jed knew I was Karen's friend and had seen the two of them together. He demoted me right after her death. He switched my job from staff researcher to a drone job in Records.”

I weighed what I was hearing, still dubious about Celeste's credibility. “Had you ever confronted Molinoff about their relationship?” I probed, wondering if I was dealing with a potential blackmailer. Maybe she'd threatened Jed. Promised to expose him to his wife and family back in Nebraska.

“God, no,” Celeste said. “But he started treating me differently after Karen's death. Probably because I had seen other things.”

I figured I'd give Celeste a little more rope and see if she hung herself. Or at least proved herself to be a resentful co-worker with a grudge. “And what sort of things did you see, Celeste?”

“First, he was going through her desk, looking for her daytimer and getting mad when he didn't find it. Then I saw him on Karen's computer, copying files. He caught me watching him, unfortunately. That's when he started interrogating me every day, asking what I was working on. He transferred me downstairs two days later.”

I paused, considering everything she said. “All right, Celeste, you've got my attention. Meet me at the Marvelous Market Caf
é
on Wisconsin and P Street at twelve noon. I'll only have about thirty minutes, so make it succinct and to the point. I promise I'll give you my full attention.”

_____

I balanced my coffee and settled at the café table across from the young African-American staffer. She'd obviously gotten there before me and found a table away from other customers at the outdoor café. I took a deep drink of coffee and used the moment to survey Celeste. She was petite with chin-length black hair that curved stylishly beside her cheeks. Her almond-shaped brown eyes stared out at me expectantly from behind large glasses. Her round face made her look younger than her thirty-two years. I'd made it a point to Google Celeste and check her in the Hill directory before meeting her. Just in case she truly was certifiable. Nothing startling had shown up on my brief records search. She seemed to be exactly what she appeared—a young congressional staffer, not unlike thousands of other staff workers who peopled the offices of Capitol Hill.

“Okay, Celeste. As promised, you've got my full attention. So, talk to me.”

Celeste stopped picking at the cardboard sleeve on her takeout coffee cup and fixed me with an earnest gaze. “I want you to know that I'm not some disgruntled employee trying to get back at my boss. I've been working for Congressman Jackson and Jed Molinoff for five years now, and up to this incident, Jed had always indicated my work was exemplary.”

“What exactly did you see him doing, again? Copying files?”

“Yes. It looked like he was going through her emails and copying certain ones into a folder. I got a good look from where I was working at the desk behind Karen's.”

I sipped the dark brew. “You know, Celeste, it could be that there were some personal emails between Karen and Jed that he simply wanted to remove before the info-tech crew got to the files. That would be my guess.”

“I thought so, too, Ms. Malone. That's why I came back later that evening and checked to see if anything had been deleted.”

I looked at her in surprise. “Did you find anything?”

“There were several, but they all looked like regular office correspondence, not personal. You know, meetings, fundraising, stuff like that. I didn't understand why he'd delete them.” She shrugged. “I would have looked at more files, but I heard some noises and figured someone else had come into the office to work, so I left. The next day, Karen's computer was gone.”

“Maybe the tech crew came and took it away before you arrived for work.”

Celeste shook her head with that solemn expression of Girl Scout innocence. Her round face gazed at me with earnest sincerity.

“No, I checked. They weren't even scheduled to come yet. But what really spooked me was when Jed started going through Karen's desk the next day. He was pawing through the drawers, slamming stuff around, and then yelled at another staffer, asking if she'd moved Karen's daytimer.”

I watched Celeste carefully. My antenna was picking up some strange signals from this young woman. “Maybe he was trying to find an important phone number or an email that she wrote down.”

“That's what I thought, but then I overheard him talking to someone on the phone and Jed specifically said, ‘Her daytimer is missing,'” Celeste said in a faintly ominous tone.

That got my attention. “Any idea to whom he was talking?”

Celeste shook her head. “I don't know, but I do know where Karen's daytimer is. I helped her pack up her things that Saturday. I kind of walked in when Jed and Karen were having a big argument. Jed looked furious, and he stormed out of the office after I came in. Karen was so upset. She asked me to find some boxes so she could clear out her desk. She loaded up three boxes.”

“What was in the boxes aside from her daytimer?”

“Oh, files and folders, some personal stuff, music players, lots of books.”

“Did she take them home, do you know?”

“She never had the chance. I helped her carry them out to her car. But Congressman Jackson came rushing into the office right afterwards and asked Karen to do a last-minute research project for him before the reception that night. He planned to drop by the office and go over it with her, then head straight for the reception. Poor Karen never had a chance to go home and freshen up or anything. She went straight to Senator Russell's house.” Celeste's voice dropped. “She said she planned to tell the congressman she was leaving his office that following Monday.” Her dark eyes focused on me. “Something else bothers me, too. Jed started acting different right after Karen's death.”

“How different?”

“He's nervous, jumpy. I mean he's always been hyper when we're working on projects, but this is different. He … he's way more impatient. He yells a lot. And he rehired this creepy guy that he'd fired only two months ago.” She frowned. “When I asked him about it, he said he needed Larry now that Karen was gone. Thing is, Karen was the one who'd insisted that Jed fire Larry two months before. Karen caught him berating one of the new admin assistants. He had her so upset, she was in tears. Karen told Jed he couldn't allow that on the congressman's staff. Jed didn't want to let Larry go, but Karen insisted. And Larry threatened her before he left. I heard him.”

I didn't like the sound of that. “What did he say to Karen?”

“He told her ‘she'd be sorry.'”

I ran my finger around the rim of the coffee cup, considering what Celeste said. “How has this Larry guy been acting since he came back on staff ? Is he behaving himself ?”

“Yeah, so far, but he's always creeping around, watching everybody. I think Jed hired him to spy on everyone. I catch him watching me.”

I finished off my coffee, wondering what to make of everything Celeste told me. Was she an astute observer or overly paranoid because she'd been demoted? I still hadn't made up my mind about her. Glancing at my watch, I rose from my chair. “I don't know what to say, Celeste. I appreciate your telling me all of this, but … I confess, I don't know what to make of it.”

Celeste stuffed her napkin into her empty cup and rose as well. “I know it sounds strange, Ms. Malone, but I'm not crazy. And I'm not holding a grudge against Jed Molinoff. Honest. I just wanted you to know what was going on. Thanks for listening to me.” Her young face registered disappointment.

I gave her a maternal smile and reached out to squeeze her arm. I remembered what it was like to be single and working in a crazed political atmosphere. “I don't think you're crazy, Celeste, not at all. I had the opportunity to watch Jed Molinoff in action once myself, and I know he can get pretty obnoxious.”

I spotted a smile for the first time. “You're right about that, Ms. Malone.”

“Listen, why don't you keep me updated on whatever's happening over there, particularly if you hear Molinoff mention Karen's name again.”

“I'll be glad to. Hearing Jed say that on the phone really bothered me. Almost as much as that Larry guy creeping around, watching everybody.”

“At least you're out of the office and down in Records.”

“Yeah, but he comes down there regularly to check files. I catch him watching me.”

“Well, you take care of yourself, Celeste, and let me hear from you, okay?” I said as I headed for the door.

“I promise. Take care, Ms. Malone. And thank you.”

I gave her a good-bye wave as I sped from the coffee shop and headed up Wisconsin Avenue, walking fast. Walking was still faster than trying to find parking in Georgetown. As I walked, I let Celeste's comments play over in my mind.

What was Jed Molinoff up to? Going through Karen's emails. Rummaging through her desk. Maybe he simply moved any personal emails he'd sent Karen to another folder, getting them out of the files. Just like he'd gone through the photographs in her desk and removed the photos of them together. He wanted to leave no trace of their affair.
Bastard.

But what was so important in Karen's daytimer? Who was he talking to? Was it Congressman Jackson? And why did he rehire the bad actor? Was he simply trying to replace Karen? The Fillmore guy's past history of bad behavior could cause more trouble in Jackson's office.

Turning onto Q Street, I angled down the shaded street, digging for my cell phone now that I was away from the noisier avenue.

“Hey, did you guys round up some packing boxes or do you need me to buy more?” I asked Nan when she answered.